Business As Usual
by kalina16
Summary: The Guardians of the Galaxy find themselves in the unfortunate position of having to go grocery shopping. Between shampoo selections, Poptart-eating gods, and angry ex-dads, it goes about as well as Gamora expected. Probably a crack fic.


**I have nothing to say for this but that on vacation I went grocery shopping with my entire extended family, cousins and all. It was fairly insane, but unfortunately devoid of screaming Peters-which I took far too much liberty with in this fic.**

**Enjoy!**

* * *

Morning came as usual for the residents of the ship _Milano_, with unnecessarily loud moans and groans, scattered amongst yells of "_Turn that dang light off!_" or _"Get off my face you overweight hunk of lard!_", along with the cheerful clatter of weapons being drawn.

Ah, yes, business as usual for the happy, insane family that was the Guardians of the Galaxy. It was looking to be a bright day.

Until, of course, the waffle maker decided to blow itself up.

"_Ohgodhelp_!" came a very, very manly shriek (and not at all like a little girl's, thank you very much) from the kitchen. Rocket missed being trampled by inches as Peter ran out of the smoking kitchen and through his workshop, hands plastered over his face as he sprinted towards the bathroom.

"What the hell?" Rocket sputtered out, thoroughly convinced it was too early for this.

"Peter!" Gamora cried, the door to her room opening with a bang as she threw herself out, still clad in her purple pajama shorts and overlarge t-shirt. "Are you hurt?!" she asked anxiously as she followed him into the bathroom.

"Dying," Peter moaned, all but shoving his face into the sink. "'m dying. My waffle maker betrayed me," he whimpered from beneath the running of the faucet.

"Oh, for star's sake-" she yanked him up by the shoulders, the concern fading as she inspected his face.

"How is it?" he asked timidly, eyes screwed shut. "Please tell me I still have eyebrows. Please, please, please."

"Welllll," Gamora said uncertainly, running a sympathetic hand over his singed brow. "They are still in existence-" he sighed loudly in relief. "-however, I cannot vouch for their color, nor their…fireproofing abilities."

"Wha-no-" Peter spun around to face the mirror, eyes widening at the sight. Personally, Gamora didn't think it was that bad-his eyebrows were blackened, and the front fringe of his hair was slightly…incinerated…but it was still _there_, just…blacker.

Peter didn't seem to share her optimism, however.

"_Agghhhhhh_!" Peter shrieked, slapping his hands over his face as he pushed past Gamora, sprinting to his room. "I'm hideous! Don't look at meeeeee!"

"Wha-Peter-don't-" Gamora stared after him helplessly as he slammed the door to his room. "It is not that bad-"

_Bang._

"_Agh!_" came Rocket's shriek from the kitchen, followed by a sentence so filthy it would have surprised even Yondu.

"Rocket!" Gamora cried, turning from Peter's door to help her friend. "Are you alright?"

"_No!_" he yelled, stumbling out of the kitchen, followed by a cloud of dark smoke. "I think I may've just fried my brain-"

"I am Groot!" the Flora Colossus came up behind him, looking the most angry Gamora had ever seen him. Probably because he was extinguishing flames from the end of his branches.

"_Groot_!" she shrieked. "You're on fire!"

"What?!" Rocket yelped, spinning to face his friend.

"_Agh!_ You are on fire!"

"I am _Groot_!"

"Don't you _'no duh_' me, put it _out!_"

"I will save you, friend!" Drax said, coming up from behind Gamora with what looked an awful lot like a pressure hose.

"Drax, wait-" but Gamora's warnings came too late. Three identical screams echoed through the _Milano_ as Drax flicked the pressure hose to life.

"What in the _heck_ is going on-_gah!_" Peter, who had come bursting out of his room with his hands still over his forehead, quickly joined in the screaming as he got a face full of pressurized water.

"_Turn it off, turn it OFF-"_

Drax frantically cut off the hose, just as another blast rocked the kitchen, pouring smoke and sparks out into the hallway.

Apparently, the screaming could be heard across the galaxy.

* * *

"Okay," Gamora huffed, squeezing the water out of her hair as they all sat in the cockpit (being one of the few areas in the ship that was not utterly soaked and didn't reek of smoke). "What, exactly, just happened?"

"Ask Quill, he's the one who blew up the kitchen." Rocket muttered.

"Excuse me, it wouldn't've _blown up_ if _someone_ hadn't been throwing explosives all over the ship!" Peter shot back, a ski hat pulled over his hair and eyebrows. "Besides, I only blew up the waffle maker-you incinerated the kitchen!"

"Did not!"

"Did too!"

"Did _not_, ya half-brained idiot-"

"Did _too_, you stupid pint-sized kleptomaniac-"

"Enough! Both of you!" Gamora yelled over the both of them, Groot backing her up with a firm growl. The two shut their mouths, glaring at each other.

"Now, one at a time, tell us _exactly_ what happened," she hissed. "And Peter, take that ridiculous hat off."

"No!" he yelped, pulling it lower over his eyes. "I need it!"

"You face was not that horribly disfigured," Drax said to him, in an attempt to be comforting.

"Yeah, can't get much uglier than it already is. Some roasting might be an improvement." Rocket snickered.

Peter gave him a venomous look.

"I will _strangle _you in your _sleep_-"

"Explain! Now!" Gamora yelled again, desperately trying to regain control.

"Fine," Peter huffed. "I was making waffles, simple, _harmless_, chocolate-chip waffles, that we _could have _been eating right now-" There was a collective groan of lament over the wasted waffles.

"-if the waffle maker hadn't, completely _randomly_, blown itself up." Peter finished.

"And fried off your eyebrows," Drax added.

"They are not _fried off!_" Peter cried, hiding his face.

"For star's sake," Gamora muttered, turning to Rocket. "You?"

"I was workin' on a new explosive," he said, looking slightly sheepish. "And, uh, I might've brought it with me when I went to go see what Quill was blubberin' about."

"Well, that explains the crater that used to be our kitchen," Gamora muttered.

"I am Groot!"

"Yeah, yeah, I'm sorry I lit you on fire!" Rocket yelped as Groot wacked him on the head. "I didn't mean it!"

"My poor, poor ship," Peter moaned.

"And Drax," Gamora said, ignoring them. "What possessed you to spray us with pressurized water? Come to think of it, where did you even_ find_ a pressure hose?"

"Groot was on fire, so I sought to extinguish him," Drax said, as if it should be obvious. "I found the hose lying in a supply closet."

"Uh-yeah, that'd be mine," Peter said, looking shifty. "Had one on my old ship-not that I have a tendency to set the ship on fire, of course, haha, that's ridiculous-"

"Oh stars."

"Things happen!" Peter cried. "And I thought we might need a good source of water!"

"So that's that," Gamora sighed wearily. "We are left with no kitchen, no food, and one less pair of eyebrows-"

"Hey!"

"-because over half the people on this ship are idiots," Gamora finished.

"It was just an accident," Rocket muttered.

"I think it should be taken into account that I saved Groot," Drax added.

"I still have eyebrows," Peter whimpered.

Gamora face palmed.

"I am Groot," Groot said urgently.

"Yes, Groot," Gamora said, ignoring Rocket's incredulous look at her translation. "I suppose we do need to go grocery shopping."

* * *

"Welcome to the Interplanetary Grocery Store, or the IGS!" a too-cheerful female voice chirped from the loudspeakers as the five Guardians entered the massive store warily.

"Here at the IGS we pride ourselves in supplying the galaxy with the highest quality products found!" the voice continued. "All we ask is that you refrain from any assaulting, shooting, decapitating, and open declarations of mass genocide until you have safely left the premises! Thank you!"

"Is anyone else having second thoughts about this?" Peter asked faintly as he took in the hordes of yelling, rushing people.

"If we want to avoid starvation, we have no choice," Gamora said bravely. Fumbling with her pocket, she pulled out a crumpled sheet of paper.

"Alright," she addressed them. "Seeing as none of you have any concern for your health, I have compiled a list of necessary items for survival, followed by-" she rolled her eyes at the moans of her teammates. " Followed by a _short_ list of your preferences."

"Oh, thank god," Peter muttered, Rocket, Drax, and Groot nodding in agreement. Gamora shook her head, ripping the paper into five pieces.

"I am giving you each several items to get. Try and get them as quickly as possible and meet at the check-out counter-star's only knows what goes on in here," she muttered as she handed them each a piece of the list, glancing around the store warily.

"Alright!" Peter said, pumping his fist in the air. "Let's do this! Bring it in!"

"Huh?" the others chorused, staring at his outstretched hand in confusion.

"Team cheer," Peter said exasperatedly. "You put your hands in and say, like, a motivational shout or something, then throw them in the air."

"That is the dumbest thing I've ever heard," Rocket said flatly.

"Rocket," Gamora admonished. She turned to Peter. "That is incredibly foolish."

"Aw, c'mon," Peter whined. "Please?"

"I like the idea of this stupid gesture!" Drax said, throwing his hand in, Groot joining in as well with a happy "I am Groot".

"Oh, fine," Gamora huffed, sticking her hand in too.

"You're all idiots," Rocket groaned, throwing his paw in as well.

"Yeah!" Peter said happily. "Let's kick some overpriced-grocery ass, on three!"

* * *

"Hm," Gamora said, inspecting her list as she walked down an aisle. "Vegetables, vitamins…good thing I gave myself the healthy items," she muttered. She looked up, scanning the ceiling-high shelves stocked with food.

"Where do they keep their thrice-accursed produce," she muttered darkly, turning to walk past the rows of brightly colored packaged drinks.

"Ugh," she said in disgust, staring at the bright red cans bearing the label "Coca-cola".

"I do not care what Peter says about Terra, they have the most revolting foo-" she froze dead as she looked up. No more than ten feet away from her stood a horde of Chitauri, inspecting bottles of something called "Red Bull" with great enthusiasm.

"Oh stars," she whimpered, nearly dropping her shopping bag. One of the Chitauri turned to look at the rest of the drinks. Without a second's pause, Gamora threw herself behind one of the giant crates of Coca-colas.

"Please go away, please go away," she whispered frantically.

"Oh hey! Coca-colas! Man, one of my friends had one of these in New York, he said they were great!"

"Is this before or after he was smashed by a giant green monster?" the voices of the Chitauri grew closer. Gamora buried her face in her hands.

The galaxy really did hate her.

* * *

"Breakfast foods, breakfast foods," Rocket muttered, attempting to read one of the giant maps posted in the store.

"Don't see why we need breakfast anyways," he said to himself, turning down an aisle. "Ninety percent of the time we're out of bed and into battle." He passed a row of cereal boxes, squinting down at his list.

"Let's see…Xandarian breakfast bars, any cereal with chocolate and/or marshmallows in it, somethin' halfway healthy please, and Poptarts." Looking up at the rows of cereal, he quickly grabbed the one with the highest calorie count.

"So there's that-and there's the Xandarian bars…no one but Gamora'll care if I skip the healthy stuff, so screw that…" he frowned at the list.

"Now for the Poptarts." Heading quickly down the aisle, Rocket passed the rows of exotic packages claiming to reduce weight (haha, what a joke) until he reached the many stacks of Poptarts. Victory!

Except there was some guy in front of the display, hunched over suspiciously.

"Hey, mister-" Rocket tried, staring at the dark-haired man-a humie?-with slight trepidation. "Can I get through for a sec?"

The dark-haired man made no reply, continuing to shove something in his face as he kept his back turned. Rocket lost all patience.

"Alright, ya creepy idiot, I've had enough-"he yanked the man around, only to jump back at the hysteria in the stranger's green eyes.

"I'm not eating Poptarts," he hissed hysterically, standing as he wiped his hands off frantically on his black and green robes. "How dare you even suggest I lower myself to eating such Midgardian filth-I loathe these fruit and chocolate-filled pastries-"

"Uhhhh," Rocket said, taking a step back.

"You saw nothing!" the stranger shrieked, jumping away. "I never ate any Poptarts! You saw my fool of a brother!"

"Okayyyyy, crazy," Rocket said, eyeing him as he backed away.

"You saw nothing!" the dark-haired stranger yelled again, turning to sprint down the aisle.

"Well that was just weird," Rocket muttered, staring after the man.

"Eh," he shrugged. "Now do I get the s'mores flavored or the double chocolate…"

* * *

"This store is needlessly overcomplicated," Drax told the terrified assistant for the sixth time.

"Sir-I'm so sorry, but I only offer samples, I don't run the store-"

"But you should!" Drax said, helping himself to another one of the assistant's cheese samples, his bag of refrigerated food forgotten. "You stand here all day and gift poor shoppers with free food! It is a most noble gesture."

"Well, sir, you see-I'm paid for it, so it's not all bad-not as much as the managers, of course, but enough-" the girl stuttered.

"You are denied equal pay?!" Drax exclaimed, looking outraged. "This is a travesty! You are being unjustly denied your basic rights! Enslaved by the prejudice of your privileged superiors!"

"Uh, sir, it's not quite like that-"

"I shall fight for your rights, small terrified giver of food!" Drax cried, grabbing a display sign and thrusting it in the air like a battle flag. "We shall gather your fellow employees and revolt against the hierarchy!"

"No, sir-you see-as much fun as a revolt sounds, I can't just-"

"Come, food-girl!" Drax yelled, grabbing the poor girl by the arm and dragging her away from her food stand. "Let us gather our army and liberate you!"

"Help," she said faintly as she was dragged down an aisle.

* * *

"I am Groot."

The Flora Colossus walked down the aisles peacefully, taking care to avoid the gaping customers in his way. His portion of the list instructed him to find laundry detergent, cleaning spray, soap, and shampoo. The laundry detergent had been easy enough to find- he'd been quite relieved to pick that one up. There were several of Peter's shirts that he was positive had not been that color when he'd bought them. The cleaning spray and soap were about as simple to locate.

The shampoo, however, was throwing him for a loop.

Whereas Rocket had simply requested non-floral, cheap shampoo, Peter and Gamora's requests were…considerably harder to fulfill.

He knew it had to take a lot for the two to maintain such luscious, flowing locks, but the amount of products they had listed was really ridiculous.

Groot sighed wearily, about to give up, when a tall, blonde-haired and bearded man walked up.

"Good day, friend!" he said cheerfully, waving a hand in greeting. "My apologies, but I could not help but notice you were having trouble finding shampoo?"

Groot nodded frantically at the man.

"Ah! Well I would be honored to offer my help, if you wish?"

Groot nodded again.

"Great!" the man said cheerfully, turning to the rows and rows of products. "Now, my personal favorite is this L'oreal, here-Midgardian, of course, and it does wonders for your coloring, as well as ensuring natural shine and wave."

The man tossed his long, shining blonde locks as if to demonstrate. Groot had to admit his hair certainly did look flawless.

"But the Lady Jane insists on using these essence of herbs," he continued, holding out more shampoo bottles. "And then Lady Darcy advocates this 'Dove'" he continued, grabbing more bottles. Groot's shopping bag was filling up fast.

"And of course, my friend Stark insists on this hair gel, and Lady Natasha swears by this curling formula-no, wait, she swears by the Midgardian contraptions called 'straighteners' now, my apologies-"

Groot began growing more branches to hold the products the man was handing him.

"And of course, we cannot leave out Lady Sif and Fandral's preferences-"

He was going to need a lot more branches.

* * *

"Ugh," Peter moaned, trudging down the bread aisle, tugging at his hat. "Why'd Gam give me all the lame stuff," he whined, looking back at his list.

Grabbing several bags of bread, he tossed them into his bag carelessly. He glanced down the crowded aisles.

"Should probably get more ingredients for chocolate chip waffles while I'm here," he muttered, fiddling with his walkman. "Probably a new waffle-maker, too…"

He sighed, turning to walk down the aisle as he put his headphones on, nodding his head to the music as he scanned the aisles, ignoring the other shoppers.

"_Listen, baby,_" he hummed under his breath as he inspected the waffle makers. "_Ain't no mountain high, ain't no valley-_agh!"

He ducked his head quickly, yanking his jacket up as he caught sight of Yondu and several other Ravagers.

"What the-they choose to shop now?!" he moaned to himself, trying to sneak down the opposite side of the aisle quickly. "The galaxy hates me-_oof_!"

Preoccupied with escaping Yondu without detection, he had completely missed the person in front of him and smacked into them.

"Aw man, dude," he said, picking up his dropped list and straightening up as he apologized. "Sorry, I totally missed you there-"

The rest of his sentence dissolved into a strangled squeak as he caught sight of who he'd bumped into.

"You dare bump into me, mortal?" the Mad Titan, Thanos, growled at him, still clutching his bag of Oreos.

"Heh," Peter squeaked out, swallowing.

"Yondu helllllllp!"

* * *

At approximately three o'clock in the Intergalactic Grocery Store, the alarms began blaring as a massive disturbance occurred near the checkout aisles. Some customers claimed to have seen a Zen-Whoberian woman vaulting over the check-out counters, nailing a horde of pursuing Chitauri in their heads with bright red cans. Others claimed to have seen a dark-haired, finely dressed man being chased by a raccoon, the raccoon demanding angrily that the man hand over the last of the s'mores Poptarts while the man shrieked "_I was never here!_". Still others claimed to have seen a blonde-haired man chasing after the raccoon and Poptart thief, yelling something about brothers and miraculous returns from the dead, followed by a tree carrying hundreds of hair products. Even more claimed to have seen a Terran with a waffle maker running for his life, frantically pulling at his rocket boots and shrieking "_Save me Gamora!_" as he was chased by an angry, Centaurian man and an even angrier Mad Titan. And that's not even including the manager's account of the lower-ranked employees attacking the higher ones, led by a tattooed, muscled alien and carrying display signs like spears.

At any rate, no one missed the large explosion that occurred smack in the middle of the hysteria, followed by the disappearance of five of the rabble-rousers and the dark-haired man's s'mores Poptarts.

"This universe is way too messed up," the owner of the Interplanetary Grocery Store remarked faintly.

* * *

"Well, that should cover us for awhile," Gamora said, putting the last of the groceries away in the partially-destroyed kitchen of the _Milano_. The only response she received was a chorusing of groans. She observed the team with a sigh.

Rocket was sitting on the counter, stuffing s'mores Poptarts in his mouth next to Groot, who was still attempting to rid himself of the myriad of floral scents that had spilled onto him in the explosion. Drax looked thrilled, going on about the 'liberation of enslaved food-givers', and Peter was sprawled face-down on the floor, a bag of ice resting on his head as he moaned about how much the universe sucked.

For her part, she was relatively unharmed-just drenched in the disgustingly sticky liquid of the Terran beverage called 'Coca-cola', which, for all its revoltingness, made surprisingly good ammo.

"In all honesty, I expected it to go worse," she offered half-heartedly.

"Got to blow stuff up. Wasn't a complete waste," Rocket said through a mouthful of Poptart.

"I am Groot," Groot said sulkily, scrubbing at his arms more.

"It was a most productive expedition!" Drax said enthusiastically.

"I hate your sorta-dad. I hate my sorta-dad. I hate everything," Peter moaned into the floor.

"Well," Gamora said, sitting next to Peter on the floor and patting his back. "If it makes you feel any better, the blast Rocket set off ruined all our eyebrows."

"Wait," Rocket said, freezing.

"What?" Drax said, searching frantically for mirror.

Minutes later, two identical cries of despair echoed across the _Milano._

"Ahaha! Serves you losers right-_ow_!"

Ah, yes. Business as usual for the Guardians of the Galaxy.


End file.
